


Castiel the Teenage Witch

by astudyinkevin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abused Castiel, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Humor, Jock Dean, Sabrina the Teenage Witch AU, Witch Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4558182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinkevin/pseuds/astudyinkevin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the night before Castiel's sixteenth birthday and all through the house, Michael and Gabriel were giddy and wondering if their nephew they should rouse. For he had recently moved in, and was asleep in his bed, however, unlike most people, Castiel was levitating overhead. The boy was a witch, though he didn't know it yet, and tomorrow his life would change forever, because he was both starting a new school and had now had magical powers to beget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castiel the Teenage Witch

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Pauline, who expressed her frustration that there weren't enough witch!Cas stories. It was supposed to be comical like Sabrina the Teenage Witch, but turned out more Angsty.

It all started the night before Castiel's sixteenth birthday. Of course, he didn't know this because he was past the REM phase and peacefully asleep in his bedroom at his uncles' house. He was not aware that at at 12:36 precisely his entire body slowly gained distance above his bed until his draped sheets barely touched his mattress. All he knew was today would be his birthday and first day at his new school, Lawrence High. He was blissfully unaware that he was, in fact, a witch.

 

Castiel Novak woke up with the feeling that he was flying. Like he was soaring above the clouds with angel's wings and was able to look down at every human being on planet earth. Even though Castiel had always been afraid of heights, he felt tranquil and wished he could go back to sleep.

 

But he couldn't. He had to go to school today. Groaning, Castiel sat up. His sheets were in a heap on the floor beside his bed. Strange, he didn't remember getting too hot in the night. Anyways, he stood up and began trying to tame his dark hair.

 

He had just finished putting on his favorite tie when he heard a knock on the door.

 

“Come in!” he acknowledged in a gravelly voice that had only lowered a few months ago.

 

Two young men stepped in and beamed at their nephew.

 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” They shouted together.

 

“Can my present be one last day here? I can go to school tomorrow,” he requested half-jokingly.

 

Dual and opposite answers met the boy “Sounds fair” & “Nice try”.

 

Castiel's older uncle, Michael, glared at his younger brother, Gabriel, who simply shrugged.

 

“It's not every day our nephew turns 16; he's still starting school in the middle of the year,” he supplied.

 

“Guys, it's okay, I know school is important.”

 

Michael told him, “You look sharp and impressive in that suit, you'll get along fine with your teachers.”

 

Gabriel snorted, “If you're going to wear a suit, at least lose the tie.”

 

“It's my favorite tie, Dad gave it to me,” Castiel pushed through his uncles and began galumphing down the stairs to where the living room and, more importantly, the kitchen lay.

 

“Should we tell him before school?” Gabriel asked his older brother.

 

Michael contemplated this, “It's for the best. I don't want him distracted in class, but I also would hate for an accident to happen and him not know what's going on. Besides, his life's already been flipped upside down, and he seems to be coping well.”

 

They found Castiel in the kitchen, “Go take a look in the dining room,” Gabriel barely concealed his smile.

 

Castiel stuffed the rest of the buttered bread he was eating into his mouth and walked into his uncles' rustic dining room with a long wooden table and matching high-backed chairs. His uncles had put orange streamers up along the ceiling and a huge cake resided in the middle of the table. Curled up in one of the ginormous chairs the black--almost red house cat, Anna, wore a tiny party hat.

 

“You put Anna in a party hat?” he crooned at the cuteness and picked her up. Castiel loved animals. His mom raised him on a musk ox farm in Alaska where she used their qiviut to make expensive yarn for knitting and crocheting.

 

But she had sent Castiel to the lower 48 states—wanted to get rid of him like his Dad had before dying. Castiel nuzzled Anna under his chin and hoped his estranged uncles wouldn't get tired of him as well. The past five days he's spent with them has taught him they're complete opposites of each other, yet somehow complete one another. And both were kind yet kooky, definitely not like his Dad.

 

Speaking of his uncles, they both walked in and Michael held a huge present wrapped in orange paper, and Gabriel held a silver bag tied with matching ribbon.

 

“SURPRISE!” They cried.

 

Okay, they really needed to stop that. Still, Castiel smile and put Anna back in the chair. However, she jumped up on the table as soon as he sat her down.

 

“Mine first!” said Gabriel gleefully, “Hope you don't already have one!”

 

Castiel took the bag and nearly dropped it. It was hefty. He set the cumbersome gift on the table before untying the ribbon. He pulled out sparkly tissue paper and pulled out...a cast iron pot? Was this another of his sillier uncle's jokes? Trying for politeness he looked up and said, “Thanks, Uncle Gabe, I can cook crab chowder in it.”

 

“That's not what it's for, Cassie,” said his uncle with a giddy little jump.

 

Before he continued, Michael stepped in front of him and handed over his present. It was also extremely weighted. Castiel tore the paper off and found a huge, jewel encrusted (were those actual rubies and sapphires?), leather bound book as tall as his forearms and thicker than his father's Bible. Block letters burned into the leather spelled out Milton's Magicks.

 

Castiel looked up at Michael in confusion, “I don't understand.”

 

Michael sighed and said, “Sit down, Castiel.” He did as he was told and Michael joined him at the end of the table; Gabriel sat beside Castiel.

 

“You see, there are two realms in this world, Castiel, the natural and the _super_ natural, and—“

 

“You're a witch!” Gabriel cut Michael off.

 

“I was getting there, Gabriel!” Michael huffed.

 

Castiel was surprised his older uncle had been able to get roped into Uncle Gabe's antics. From what he's seen, Michael detests Gabriel's jokes.

 

“Nice try,” Castiel smirked, “But I'd like to go to school now.”

 

“He hasn't even had my cake yet!” Gabriel said to Michael.

 

“No, Castiel, this is something you need to understand so you can wield your powers with care—,” Michael had a serious expression on his face now.

 

“Yeah, I have powers,” Castiel said sarcastically.

 

“Well, most witches  _do_ to be you know,  _witches_ ,” Gabriel replied.

 

“Even if witches  _were_ real, shouldn't I be a warlock or something—witches are  _old warty women_ ?” Castiel played along, Uncle Gabe had obviously worked hard on his acting skills.

 

“Witches are both genders,” he said.

 

“So let me guess, you're a witch too?”

 

“You're not alone in this, me, Mikey—“

 

“Let me guess, my mom's a witch too?”

 

“No, she's human and that's why you've had to wait until you're sixteen for your powers to come into effect—“

 

“Was my Dad?” Castiel was beginning to get pissed off. There was no way Gabriel would include his father in this little prank.

 

“He was supposed to be, but he refused to use his powers and abhorred all magicks—“ Gabriel trailed off.

 

Castiel stood up abruptly, “I'm going to school, get this stuff out of here before I get home.”

 

“ _You_ do not get to make the rules around here and I will absolutely not take that tone from you,” Michael stood up and didn't miss how Castiel flinched away. Neither did Gabriel. Michael softened his tone, “We'll discuss this when you get home.”

 

The door slammed behind Castiel on his way out, but then he remembered he forgot his backpack. Dang it, he couldn't even storm off like a regular person!

 

He opened the door and grabbed his bag along with his tan trench coat; before it closed again he heard Uncle Gabe yell, “Try not to make too many hand gestures!”

 

The weather on his walk to the bus stop felt like a summer in Alaska even though it was nearly November, so Castiel found himself shedding his trench coat and suit blazer.

 

There were no other kids at his stop and bus 32 nearly passed Castiel on the curb. Apparently the driver wasn't informed of the added stop on his route. With trepidation Castiel took a seat in the front ignoring all the intimidating and seemingly upperclassmen behind him. There were a lot of kids. His school in Alaska had three grades per room, and his dad had home schooled him when he lived in the backwoods of New Jersey. Lawrence was the biggest city he'd ever lived in. His research on his iPhone (his uncles didn't even have a computer so he had to guiltily mooch wi-fi off a neighbor) showed that his sophomore class alone had over 400 students!

 

The school was monumental like the class size suggested. The main building towered over smaller ones with darker and older looking bricks. It seemed like the school had spread out and been added onto over a period of several years. Castiel flew off the bus as soon as the doors opened. Across the parking lot an engine revved unexpectedly and Castiel jumped. He looked up and saw an old car (he had no idea the make or model, why should he care?) surrounded by girls as a boy in a letterman jacket hopped out.

 

“Walt! Your shoe!” Castiel turned back around at the shouting and saw the boy behind him's shoe had caught fire. The boy, Walt, kicked his leg and the sneaker went flying off onto the sidewalk.

 

Surprised by the ordeal, Castiel backed towards the school building. He needed to find Administration and get his schedule anyway. The double doors of the huge building led straight to a hall lined with tan lockers.

 

Well that's helpful, one would think offices would be in the front of a school. Frustrated, Castiel turned around and walked back out the door. Unfortunately, the flow of traffic was going  _inside_ the building. Castiel pushed his hand forward to weasel his way through the people. Luckily for him, they seemed to part like the Red Sea. A shrill bell rang and Castiel covered his ears. He didn't know high school's actually  _had_ bells; he thought that was something from Disney Channel's East High he had seen at a friend's house last year. It seemed to stop mid-ring and he breathed out a sigh of relief. 

 

Nearly all the other students had run off to class now. There were a few stragglers though. He picked the least intimidating looking one, a girl with long, curly, red hair sitting against the building with an iPad in her hands and thick glasses on her face. She wasn't wearing headphones, so Castiel figured it was okay to talk to her.

 

“Excuse me,” he walked up to her. She looked up and gave him a wide smile.

 

“You're the new kid, Cas-teel.” she stated.

 

“Actually it's Castiel. How did you—“

 

“Went through the school firewall to change my attendance—saw your name on the roster.”

 

Castiel wasn't sure he should ask a criminal for advice, but directions didn't seem like something that could get eschewed too badly.

 

“Could you tell me where the main office is?”

 

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, “It's in Building C, would you like me to take you there?”

 

“Could you point me in the general direction? I'll be fine,” Castiel didn't know how to say he was feeling nervous.

 

“Nonsense,” the girl popped up, “I'll show you where to go. My name's Charlie, by the way,” she held out her non iPad clad hand.

 

Not wanting to shake her hand, Castiel nodded politely, “OK, then.”

 

Charlie talked all the way to Building C, but Castiel was having a hard time listening. He didn't understand any of the video games or fantasy worlds she was talking about, least of all 'The Guild', “Okay, here we are,” she stopped and opened the door for him.

 

“Shouldn't I hold the door for you?” Castiel's father had always told him to act chivalrous around women (which had made Castiel snort at the time, considering his mom lived on the other side of the country).

 

“Oh please don't tell me you're sexist,” Charlie gave him mildly disgusted face, “I'm the one showing you where to go, I'm being kind by opening the door for you.”

 

Castiel nodded his head slowly, “I apologize, I did not mean to upset you, Charlie.”

 

“Hey, it's okay, I've got a new mind to meld is all,” and they walked into the building that had the main offices.

 

The receptionist was a prim looking woman who's plaque said “Naomi” and the last name was scratched out.

 

“Bad divorce,” Charlie whispered in her ear. She raised her voice, “This here is Castiel! He's new to Lawrence High School and would like his welcoming gift!”

 

Naomi merely scowled her thin lips at Charlie and handed Castiel a folder stuffed with papers.

 

“Thanks, Ms. Naomi!” Charlie put a hand on Castiel's back; he jumped before she began leading him away.

 

“We'll go out the back,” she told him, “It'll be faster to your first class,” she glanced down at his schedule. “Like I said, I saw your name in my first period Trigonometry class. But we've also got Literature and Phys. Ed. Together—you won't see me there often, though,” she handed Castiel his schedule back.

 

While the duo was making their way down the hall to the exit, another figure walked in. It was the letterman jacket guy, but he wasn't surrounded by girls now. In fact, Castiel was able to get a better look at his face without long strands of hair flying everywhere. He had a much harder face, more chiseled jawline, and  _freckles_ (Castiel nearly laughed) than he remembered. He also walked rather bow-legged and Castiel wondered if maybe he was secretly a cowboy.

 

“Drug test, Winchester?” Charlie called.

 

“Very funny,” but Winchester's gait shifted a little bit, “Mrs. Mills sent me to find some lost new kid who hadn't shown up yet.”

 

“You  _volunteered_ ? Well, I found him first. Dean, this is Castiel.”

 

“Shut up, I got out of Trig; I already know it already. Plus, I kind of thought your name sounded a bit like a girl's,” Dean had now turned to speak to Castiel.

 

Charlie shook her head, “You two go, I need to finish what I was working on earlier.”

 

Castiel didn't want Charlie to leave him quite yet, he was starting to get used to the spunky redhead. Charlie obviously knew Dean though, so maybe he wasn't too bad a guy. Then again, his only experience with public school was High School Musical.

 

Dean waved bye to Charlie and shoved his hands into his jacket pocket, “See ya at lunch!” he said.

 

“Mrs. Mills' class is this way,” Dean turned to Castiel and gestured with his head since his hands were still concealed in pockets. Standing closer to Dean, Castiel saw he had even more freckles on his eyelids, and those eyelids covered a dense forest of green-brown that reminded Castiel of lush summers in Palmer, Alaska.

 

Castiel stayed silent as they left the building. He was never one for small talk like his Uncle Gabriel in that respect. His father always told him you should always have something important to say if you opened your mouth. Unimportant gibber was punished. While his mom was generally quiet, she liked to sing, especially while spinning yarn.

 

“I was new last semester,” Dean broke the silence, “Starting in the middle of one must suck,” he said.

 

“I recently moved in with my uncles,” Castiel replied.

 

“So they're, like, together?” Dean took a hand out of a pocket to make a spinning gesture.

 

It took a second for Castiel to realize what Dean was asking, and shook his head, “No. Brothers.”

 

Dean nodded, “It's usually me and my brother living together nowadays, which is why we haven't moved in so long—“ he trailed off and clenched his jaw like he hadn't meant to say anything.

 

Castiel chewed on his bottom lip the rest of the way to the classroom.

 

The trigonometry class went okay. However, Mrs. Mills had him introduce himself to the class and nearly 30 pairs of eyes were on him.

 

“So where are you moving here from?” she had asked.

 

“Wasilla, Alaska,” He replied barely above a whisper, keeping his eyes on his shoes.

 

“What brings you to Lawrence?”

 

“I have family here,” he shrugged. Weird family, he added mentally.

 

Most of the people seemed disinterested and he finally was released to sit down. He sat by Dean, hoping that was okay.

 

It seemed to be. Dean whispered to him Charlie sat there when she came to class.

 

After the bell startled him several inches out of his seat, Castiel packed his notebook up and Dean showed him to his next lesson.

 

“Thanks for showing me around. I know you don't have to,” Castiel appreciated.

 

Dean shrugged, “Like I said, I was new last year.”

 

Turns out, Dean was in Castiel's biology class too.

 

The pungent smell of formaldehyde wafted into Castiel's nostrils as he entered the classroom.

 

“Dude, I forgot, we're cutting up frogs today!”

 

“For what purpose?” Castiel queried.

 

“Well I'd say for  _fun_ but Mr. Alastair would say it's educational. Actually, he'd probably say fun, too.”

 

Several minutes later found Castiel and Dean both wearing a pair of latex gloves and collectively leaning over a frog Dean had dubbed “Jimmy Page”.

 

“Y'know, the guitar player from Led Zeppelin? His dried up toes kind of look like guitar strings. Ugh, sorry, that made me sound really creepy.”

 

“Um, no, I don't know,” Castiel said.

 

“Dang, I gotta get you listening to some good music. What do you usually listen to?”

 

“Well, my dad only let me listen to hymns and my mom sang regional folk music,” Castiel blushed.

 

But instead of judging Castiel, Dean merely said, “Huh, maybe you'd like The Beatles.”

 

“Oh, look at that boys. You've bored your frog to death with your incessant gibber-jabber,” a nasally voice came from above their lab desk. Mr. Alastair was standing above them with two scalpels. “Well, slice and dice.” He moved on to the next table.

 

“Okay, we need to find where the heart is and make the first incision right above it,” Castiel said, back to focusing on the task at hand. 

 

“No idea where that is,” Dean admitted.

 

“I think it's about right here,” Castiel pointed to the frog's chest.

 

Suddenly, Jimmy Page's legs twitched and he bellowed out a croak. The entire class turned to look at their table.

 

“Whoa!” Dean said.

 

“How'd that happen?” Castiel said.

 

“He's Franken-frog!” Dean supplied.

 

“Actually, Frankenstein was the scien—,” Castiel stopped as Jimmy onto the floor.

 

“Mr. Al! Ours is still kicking!”

 

Mr. Alastair walked over to where Jimmy was hopping on the tile. Next thing Castiel knew, his teacher was bringing the heel of his boot down onto Jimmy's head. Several girls gasped and turned away. Mr. Alastair picked the frog back up and put him between the boys.

 

“I think you'll find it much less spirited now,” Castiel was surprised to see his teacher smiling.

 

At lunch, Castiel sat with Charlie and her friends. One of which was Dean, the others included a wide shouldered blonde girl with a thin face and letterman jacket that matched Deans, a tan guy with a mousy brown mullet, and a black haired girl wearing sunglasses.

 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean greeted, “This is Pam, Ash, and Jo. Charlie you've obviously already had the misfortune of meeting first.”

 

“Screw you,” she spat.

 

“Can you describe new guy to me?” the girl in sunglasses, Pam, asked in a smoky voice.

 

“First off, he's wearing a blue  _suit_ to school,” Jo started, and Castiel blushed. 

 

“He's about Dean's height with a runner's build,” said Charlie.

 

“And irises the color of the blue tester liquid they use in those toilet paper commercials. Oh yeah, also got dark hair that could use a comb through.” Dean finished.

 

“Sounds handsome. Nice to meet you Cas,” Pam used Dean's nickname. She extended a hand across the table.

 

This girl probably couldn't see a head nod like he had given Charlie earlier, so Castiel tentatively shook her hand.

 

“Holy crap!” she cried.

 

Castiel quickly withdrew his hand, “What, what is it?” his voice shook.

 

“Touch me again,” she asked.

 

“Desperate for some action?” Dean asked.

 

“It's like I can  _see_ him completely in my mind, but not like, something out of my imagination,” she cocked her head at Castiel, “You've got a hard jaw and you're wearing some sort of long tan coat.”

 

“Whoa, Pamela, how'd you know that?” asked Jo.

 

“I don't know,” she shook her head, “Keep him around though. Like I said,  _handsome_ .”

 

The rest of Castiel's day went more smoothly than his morning. Sure, he had to introduce himself in nearly all of his classes, bar English with Mr. Shurley and Gym class, but he was finally calm enough to face his uncles by the time he walked towards the bus.

 

He was lost in thoughts of how he was going to address this morning's antics he didn't hear a voice cry, “Heads up!”

 

A cornered object thudded against the side of his head and caused pain to radiate down his neck. Castiel let out a small, pained breath. He looked down at the offending object, a football, at his feet and saw Jo running towards him.

 

“Sorry, Cas, COLE CAN'T AIM WORTH A PISS! I WONDER HOW HE GOES TO THE BATHROOM!” She shouted the last part over her shoulder.

 

Castiel's hands shook at his sides, “It's fine,” he said, “So you're on the football team?”

 

“One and only girl,” she smirked and bent down to retrieve the ball, “Dang, how hard'd this hit you? It's practically out of air! You must have a hard head. You sure you're okay?”

 

“Yeah, I've had worse,” Castiel looked up expecting Jo to look pleased. However, she frowning at him. Why was she doing that? She made fun of his head, too. He must not be an amicable person to spend time with for her. “I've got to get on my bus,” he pointed at his bus and the side door seemed to open only for him.

 

“See you tomorrow, Cas,” she smiled but appeared to be thinking deeply.

 

Castiel nodded his aching head at her and got onto his bus.

 

The walk back from where he was dropped off to his uncles' house was uncomfortably warm. Castiel took off his layers once more.

 

He knocked on the door when he reached it. It opened and Michael was standing there.

 

“You live here now, Castiel; you don't need permission to enter.”

 

Right. He wasn't used to that yet.

 

“How was school?” Michael asked.

 

“Fine,” Castiel replied.

 

“Ah, teenagers,” Gabriel popped into the living room, “One word provides an answer for everything when they're angry at you.”

 

“I'm not angry,” Castiel supplied.

 

“Did anything  _interesting_ happen? Y'know, out of the ordinary?”

 

“I met a few people who don't seem to hate me.”

 

“I meant anything not natural?”

 

“That is unnatural.”

 

“I meant—“

 

“I know what you're suggesting. No, no secret family magical powers made themselves present in the middle of class. Will you please let that drop now?” Castiel asked Gabriel.

 

“Are you sure? Nothing happened right when you wanted to?”

 

“My frog in biology class wasn't as inanimate as the other groups'. That, and, well, a pesky bell stopped sooner than it should have the first time it rang, but that was someone in the office's fault. It's going to be a perpetually annoying thing to happen daily between classes.”

 

“Where were your hands during this?” Michael asked.

 

“My ears.” Castiel hung his coats up and placed his bag by the stairs.

 

“Your magic finger could've been pointing at the bell.”

 

“Magic finger,” Castiel muttered, “Look, I know you went to a lot of trouble to put this together. It's hilarious. Ha-ha. But it's over now,” he pushed past his uncles to the dining room. Anna was licking frosting from his cake. Her party hat was gone.

 

“Why do my uncles have to try so hard?” Castiel picked her up and wiped icing from her whiskers.

 

“Y'know they spent weeks getting your room ready,” a honeyed and feminine voice came from his arms. Shocked, Castiel dropped the cat, “Hey! Easy there, please!” she mewled.

 

“The cat is tALKING!” he started to raise his voice, “How are you  _doing_ that?” he scrutinized Anna.

 

Footsteps thudded towards the room and Michael cried, “Anael! Gabriel and I are perfectly capable of explaining—“

 

The ginger raised her tail and twitched it, “He needed a push in the right direction to help accept his magic.”

 

Castiel fainted.

 

When he woke up, his uncles were standing over him with concerned looks on their faces. It was disconcerting seeing Gabriel with such a serious look. He sat up and discovered they must've had time to carry him to his bed.

 

“Okay,” he rasped, “I guess I believe I'm a witch.”

 

“That's good,” said Gabriel, “because you are.”

 

Anna jumped onto his bed, “Sorry to frighten you.”

 

Castiel pulled his knees up to his chin, “You've seen me changing clothes!” he accused.

 

“Trust me,” she stretched a paw, “You don't have anything  _that_ impressive.”

 

“How did you two procure a talking cat?” Castiel asked his uncles but glared at Anna.

 

Before either could answer, Anna spoke, “Oh trust me, big boy, I used to be just like you. Bipedal and half-human. Unfortunately, I broke some rules and got sentenced to 100 years as a cat.”

 

“You planned to take over the Witches Garrison,” Michael said pointedly.

 

Anna sighed and hopped off the bed. She left Castiel's bedroom saying, “I'll let you two have some privacy.”

 

“She's going to the vent in the bathroom to listen to us no matter what we say,” Gabriel muttered quietly.

 

“How about you try using some of your powers?” Michael suggested.

 

“Oooohhh yes,” Gabriel hopped onto the bed next to Castiel.

 

“Try closing your bedroom door. Simply point with your finger and—” Michael demonstrated and the door closed. He repeated the gesture and it opened wide again. “Now you try.”

 

Skeptically but inconspicuously, Castiel glanced around the door looking for any signs that had merely been an automated prank. Seeing nothing, he lifted his finger and pointed it at the door. He could feel something, something tingly and powerful and effervescent coursing from his chest. The door slammed shut with gale force.

 

Gabriel let out a low whistle, “Good job.”

 

Michael was smiling, “Yes, quite.”

 

Castiel was practically reeling from the primeval power rushing through his veins, “Why—why didn't it feel like that earlier today?” he gasped.

 

“You weren't focusing on your subject or outlet. It was a subconscious thing,” said Gabriel. He laughed, “When I was twelve I got upset with your father and accidentally made his eyebrows disappear.”

 

“How come I haven't been able to use magic before  _now_ ?” Castiel asked. If he'd had all this power, how come he hadn't been able to bring his favorite musk ox back to life like that frog? Why hadn't he had any mistakes like those that occurred at school today? How come he hadn't been able to  _stop—_ don't go there, Castiel.

 

“You're half-human; powers kick in on your sixteenth birthday.” Gabriel replied.

 

“Both your great-grandparents were full-blooded witches,” Michael said. “Half-human witches' powers stay dormant for the first sixteen years, although your bodies are surprisingly resilient for the entirety of that time. So there's some self-preservation. It's what's kept our race alive for so many centuries.”

 

Castiel pondered this. Scraped knees he got when he was five, nicks when he first started shaving, bruises from receiving punishments...all of them had faded extremely fast. Things his uncles were telling him actually made his life make sense now. All his life he'd tried fitting in with those around him—only to end up so different. For the first time on any of his birthdays, Castiel felt older.

 

The morning after Castiel turned sixteen his load felt better—lighter. Of course, this might have had something to do with him waking up four feet above his mattress. He let out a little squeal and immediately fell back onto his pillows with a small groan.

 

The kitchen was rather bare for Castiel's liking. There was bread and butter, but he'd had that yesterday. Not that he wouldn't eat it if he didn't want to.

 

Gabriel came in with a yawn and nothing but a white tank top and boxers. Castiel asked him, “What are you having for breakfast?”

 

“I'm in the mood for Maple Oatmeal,” He replied.

 

“But there's no oatmeal in the cabinets,” Castiel protested.

 

“Okay, buddy, c'mere. You'll love this,” Uncle Gabriel strode towards a wooden breadbox by the refrigerator.

 

“This is an unorthodox organizational system, keeping oatmeal in a breadbox and actual bread in the cabinet above the sink.”

 

“Watch,” Gabriel pointed his finger and Castiel felt a subtle shift in the air similar to when he had used his magic. It made him shiver, now that he had felt it and knew exactly what it was he was feeling. Opening the breadbox, Uncle Gabriel pulled out a bowl of oatmeal that was steaming; Castiel could smell the cinnamon in it. “This is the magic breadbox.”

 

“Magic breadbox,” Castiel repeated stupidly, “So, what's with the bread in the cupboards and all the appliances if your finger cooks the food?” he crossed his arms.

 

Shrugging, Gabriel spoke with his mouth full of oatmeal, “Gotta keep up appearances. Never know when someone from Mikey's work will come by; we needed to have food stocked in order for us to show your mom we had a suitable place to take care of you. Why don't you try?” he let go of his bowl, which  _hovered_ in the air, before closing the breadbox.

 

Castiel wanted something nutritious before school. He pointed and thought,  _apple apple apple_ . He felt the magic course through him again, albeit a little more choppy and less smooth down his arm than it had been yesterday. Satisfied he was finished, Castiel opened the breadbox and found a pineapple. 

 

Michael chose that moment to walk in all suited up for his job as a big shot lawyer, “Pineapple for breakfast?”

 

“It was supposed to be an apple,” Castiel's head tilted.

 

“That's...” Michael paused, “close.”

 

Gabriel snorted, “No, it's not,” but he stopped at a sharp glance from his brother.

 

“Shouldn't you be ready for school?” Michael questioned.

 

“I'm a witch. Can't I simply turn back time?”

 

“No, that's breaking one of the rules,” Gabriel said.

 

“Dang it,” Castiel ran back for the stairs to get dressed and brush his teeth.

 

“He could stop time though or speed up his toothbrush,” Gabriel said as an afterthought.

 

“The former is almost to advanced for  _you_ and all your 429 years,” Michael shook his head.

 

Gabriel let his bowl float again and flipped his big brother two birds.

 

Castiel rushed through his morning routine and wound up not getting the apple he wanted, but bread and butter again. That was okay with him though. Better than nothing.

 

This morning on the bus Castiel saw the black muscle car he'd seen revving it's engine yesterday pass the rusting yellow vehicle. Dean was probably in that car. The other people he'd met yesterday were on their way school as well. Probably thinking nothing in their lives were different. But Castiel's world had been rocked twice in one month. Moving to Kansas and then finding out he had  _magical abilities_ . He deduced that none of them could be told the latter, even though neither of his uncles had explicitly stated as much. 

 

However, to be on the safe side, he should probably stay away from people as much as possible.

 

Trigonometry was easier to find today. Castiel traipsed through the door. Charlie had apparently chosen to show up today. She sat beside Dean wearing her hair in two french braids and a black t-shirt with a blue phone box on it. No empty seat beside Dean, or Charlie for that matter, made it easier for Castiel to find a spot alone.

 

Lunch was another matter. Castiel tried to sit alone at a smaller square table, but a tray crashed down in front of him halfway through his peanut butter jelly sandwich.

 

“Alright, what gives, Cas?” Dean sat across from him.

 

Castiel ignored the boy.

 

“You sat with us yesterday, but today you haven't talked to no one.”

 

“Anyone,” Castiel corrected in a whisper.

 

“What?”

 

“You said, 'you haven't talked to no one'. It's supposed to be 'anyone'. I haven't talked to anyone today.”

 

“Jo told me what happened with the football yesterday, are you ticked off about that or somethin',”

 

“Huh?” Castiel took a moment to remember Jo not catching the football, “No, no, Jo's cool.”

 

“So why aren't you sitting with us?” Dean pouted.

 

“Because,” Castiel sighed, “I don't fit in with any of you guys.”

 

“None of us 'fit in', Cas. That's why Charlie and the others are so great to be around.”

 

Dean leaned back in his chair and shrugged, “Besides, if you don't sit with us, we'll just come to you.”

 

Another tray was placed on the two person table and a chair dragged up, “See?” Charlie said.

 

Castiel still couldn't understand why they were doing this.

 

“But what if you're different? Like  _really_ different?” Castiel asked nervously.

 

“I've actually done research,” Charlie started and got a huff from Dean, “Awkward people may not fit in their schools, but tend to succeed later in life. I don't  _want_ to fit in. I look at people like—Lisa Braeden,” she gestured, “and I see future tragedy.”

 

Cocking his head at this knowledge, Castiel pondered how successful a witch would be later in life. Michael was a lawyer and Gabriel was—well he ran a sweet shop, but he seemed happy to Castiel. Not like his father who worked so hard to conform his priesthood. Oh  _God—_ what if by fighting against his want for companionship, Castiel was actually becoming like his Dad?

 

“Hey, I dated Lisa back when I was popular, and she's pretty cool. Don't judge.” Dean scoffed.

 

“Well, that validates my point further. Lisa is a kind cheerleader, Jo plays football, Pam's a blind badass, and Ash is even better than me at computers...or he would be if he wasn't stoned half the time. No one fits in in high school.”

 

While he still didn't fully understand what they were saying, Castiel nodded his head. He'd spent too long not talking to people outside his family.

 

In AP Literature, the entire class was taking a test on the first book of the year they'd read. Castiel didn't have to take it, according to Mr. Shurley, but since he had already read Lord of the Flies, he gave it a try. Once finished, he got to leave and went and sat on a bench outside. Charlie joined him when she was through, too.

 

“Piece of cake,” she took her tablet out of her bag.

 

“There was cake?” Castiel asked.

 

“No, the test was easy,” she laughed. “Obviously, if there had been girls on the island, they would've been rescued sooner. We're reading Jane Eyre next,” she tilted the screen over so Castiel could see the class syllabus she had saved. “How much you wanna bet half the boys complain about that?”

 

“Um, I don't want to bet,” Castiel said.

 

“That's all right. I was only half-joking anyway.”

 

“Thought I heard you two losers talking,” Pamela suddenly said behind them, she must've gotten done writing her essay in braille.

 

“Scoot or get the boot,” she sat down on the bench by Castiel.

 

“Tell me something, Red,” Pam began, “Are his eyes as blue as I think they are?”

 

“And then some,” Charlie agreed.

 

Pamela tittered, “No wonder Winchester likes him so much. Voice is gravelly like  _his_ , too.”

 

What did she mean by that?

 

“Who?” Castiel asked.

 

Charlie sighed, “Well, you may have noticed but, Dean gets along with a lot of us fine. But he still feels like he has to banter and make fun of people. I think it's a defense mechanism. The only person he really is truly himself around is his little brother and Benny. Dean's...best friend, Benny, helped him get adjusted when he came to school after New Year's of last year and the two—I dunno, clicked. But over the summer Benny—um--well he killed himself. Dean's been back to acting like a twit to most of the school and hardly hangs out with us anymore unless we're the ones to make plans with him. He's also throwing himself into girls like they're about to go out of business.” she paused while Castiel absorbed this, 

 

“Benny had blue eyes, like  _really_ blue, and a gravelly voice. I think you remind him of his friend and it's maybe got him acting a little more like himself. I'm not sure he's even consciously aware he's doing it,” she finished.

 

Castiel didn't know how to feel about this. Dean was replacing his dead friend with him? But apparently it was helping his attitude. The bell rang and the last people taking the rest of the student body seemed to flood outside.

 

With a moue, Castiel pointed concentratedly at the old bell hanging off the brick building in front of him. The hammer ceased vibrating and Castiel heaved a sigh of relief.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
